


The Difference a Day Makes

by honeyandvodka



Category: Castle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyandvodka/pseuds/honeyandvodka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a beat in which the homicide floor was pitch black. Before their eyes could adjust, the emergency lights flickered on … "Why, Detective Beckett," Castle drew out, and she pressed her cell against her ear. "You had me at blackout." - An early season three fic. Can a single day make a difference and force Castle and Beckett to deal with their feelings for each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A day of writing

**Author's Note:**

> The idea is thanks an awesome anon on Alex’s amazing prompt blog.  
> “Lockdown/shoot out in the 12th, everyone but Castle is there”  
> http://castlefanficprompts.tumblr.com/post/71915596555/
> 
> It’s just a quick one - ten chapters - and is set post 3XK. Enjoy!
> 
> Kylie and Trish did the betaing honors! Thank you!

A day of writing. Again. Well, that was just great, wasn’t it?

Stuck behind his desk all alone; obviously no bodies had dropped. Or, worse, maybe one had. Maybe Beckett had decided not to call him. Maybe after last week she’d realized he was more of a liability than an asset. Maybe she’d deliberately avoided his call last night. Maybe-

His screen saver bounced around his laptop and he glared at it; yes, he _should_ be writing, but after last week's encounter with the triple killer he had done nothing but rehash his failure in letting Jerry Tyson escape. Since that night the taste of scotch had been a constant companion on his tongue and none of the dark words that had been bleeding out of his fingertips would ever make it to Black Pawn’s inbox.

Castle’s heart leapt at the sound of his cell ringing but as the familiar ring tone registered he knew before he looked down that the tone was all wrong and he was about to be disappointed. A glance at the screen dealt the final blow and he pushed the phone away behind his laptop, out of view, unwilling to find out whether it was a friendly call from his girlfriend, or a harassing call from his publisher.

Ugh. He sighed; old issues were starting to rear their heads and he wondered for the hundredth time just what he had been thinking when he’d called Gina up last May. He inhaled deeply, letting his lungs fill with air, and he held his breath, waiting for the shrill sound to die. One. Two. Three. And he exhaled, pulling the cell back into view.

One missed call.

A touch of his finger on the track pad brought the laptop back to life and he glanced back at the document on the screen, making a face at it; Rook had it so easy. He could chase around after Nikki all day, then fall into bed with her at the end of it. Rick, on the other hand, could chase after Kate all day at work and then-

What?

No. Castle shook his head. He wasn’t going to go down that path. He would return Gina’s call, maybe see if she wanted to go out for dinner. And Beckett - who ironically hadn’t returned his calls - could do… whatever it was she did with Josh.

The thought of the man’s name had him blinking, and he bit back a shudder as he reached for his phone. Gina. He had to call Gina back. There was nothing to be gained by dwelling on Beckett.

He stood up, rolling his head and stretching his neck and shoulders. Grimacing again, he punched down on Gina’s name with more force than was maybe necessary and held the phone up to his ear.

Beckett had nothing to do with this. And if she hadn’t returned his call it was because there hadn’t been any homicides to solve, not because she was avoiding him. She would call him back if and when she got the chance. In the meantime, he would extend the same courtesy to Gina and return her call.

“Hey, Rick.” Gina’s voice was relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief; he was getting Gina Cowell; girlfriend, not Gina Cowell; ex-wife and publisher.

“Hey… Sorry I missed your call.” The lie slid out easily and he smiled at her tinkle of laughter. Gina was easy. And so what if the thought of her didn’t set his heart a flutter; maybe a partnership was meant to be about more than that? Maybe they'd given up too easily years ago and this really was their chance to make it right.

“No problem,” she said. “Just wondered if you wanted to grab a bite tonight? There’s a new place in Tribeca that everyone’s been talking about.”

Who was everyone? Castle bit his tongue and nodded before realizing she couldn’t see him. “Sure. Pick you up at… seven?” That gave him the rest of the day to get his head in the game and out of this funk.

“Sure. But, actually, I was thinking I could come round to your place this morning, in an hour?  I can take a look at what you've been working on, lend a bit of pre-editorial advice, then we can spend the day together?”

Gina hung up without waiting for his reply, and Castle scowled at his phone. An hour. Okay, in that case he’d better get freshened up.

***

“Dad?”

“Alexis!” Thank God. The shower hadn’t helped; maybe Alexis could talk him out of his mood. He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes in a very Beckett like move. No. Not Beckett-like. People other than Beckett were allowed to roll their eyes; get it together, Rick.

“What’s with you?” his daughter asked from where she stood in front of the fridge, and he groaned, ruffling her hair.

“Can’t a dad be glad to see his daughter?”

Alexis shrugged, reaching for the juice. “Sure. But when you have that look on your face it usually means you’re bored or you’ve got writer’s block, and you want me to entertain you.”

“Ha!” he announced, taking the juice from her hands and swigging it. “Neither of those things.”

“Then what is it? Detective Beckett hasn’t called you for a few days, huh?”

“Why do you think it has anything to do with Beckett?”

Alexis shrugged. “You just seem happier when you get to go and look at murder all day.”

“Murder. Right.”

Alexis looked at him, her expression strained. “Are you sure you’re okay, Dad?”

“Sure, sweetie.” He nodded, plastering a smile onto his face and Alexis narrowed her eyes at him but carried her own glass of juice into the living room without saying anything else. He sighed, staring for a moment at the carton in his hand before putting it back in the fridge, staring vacantly at the contents for a moment before closing the door.

***

“You really have time? You don’t have a case?” Gina smiled at him from across the kitchen counter, and he shook his head. “Seems like every time I’ve seen you lately you’ve been rushing out to meet Beckett, or you’ve just come from the precinct.”

Castle reached for the cup she handed him, pouring her a coffee and handing it back, pouring one for himself before answering. “No. Haven’t had a case all week. Not since…” He let his voice trail off.

Not since the triple killed had bound him to a chair in a motel room. .

Not since he’d held Beckett's hand by the pool, allowing himself a brief moment of peace.

Poolside, he’d let himself sip at the coffee that Kate had brought him. He’d refrained from grimacing at the fact the convenience store quality had nothing on the coffee he’d brought her earlier that day, and he'd stared at their hands, letting the image of his enclosing her smaller one burn into his retina.

Not that he could explain that to Gina.

He ran his hand through his hair, wincing at the deception; he’d given her and Alexis the cliff notes version, only revealing the whole story to his mother.

Martha had been smart enough to work out his code, after all, and he couldn’t exactly hide it from her.

Alexis, well, he just didn’t want to taint his daughter’s world like that.

Gina was a different story. He should have told her everything. But as glad as he was that they’d reconnected last summer - he was glad, he repeated to himself - it still didn't make her his partner. Not the way a spouse should be. No, the only person he really wanted to confide in, if he was honest with himself, was Beckett.

Beckett, though, obviously didn’t feel the same way; he’d left her a voicemail and a couple of texts, but she hadn’t returned his call, and her texts had been brief, impersonal.

He swallowed, pushing his guilt down, and followed Gina through to his office, coffee in hand. She flipped open his laptop, looking at him pointedly, and he entered his password, before pulling up a chair for her and settling down in his own.

He drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited for the computer to boot up. This wasn't complicated, and he needed to get out of his head. Beckett was his work-wife. Gina was his writing partner, his editor and his girlfriend. And his ex-wife.

He rolled his eyes. Yeah. It was simple.

Or it had been, before last week.

“Really, Rick- are you okay?” Her voice broke through his reverie, and he shrugged, looking at her apologetically.

“Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.” The desktop appeared at last, and he double clicked his word processing program, tilting the screen so Gina had a better view. “So I have all these scenes with Nikki, and nothing with Rook.”

“Hmm.” Gina pulled the laptop from him, her fingers flying across the keyboard, and he smiled at her gratefully; she was at the top of her game as both an editor and a publisher, and he would always be beholden to whichever Black Pawn executive had assigned her to the Storm series; she’d been an integral part in developing those books from something good to something excellent.

He watched her work, blond hair falling across her face as she squinted at the screen and made notes that he knew, from experience, would be vital to bringing the story to life.

It was funny, though, watching her with the Nikki stories. She’d been with him from the start with Storm; Derrick felt almost like someone they’d created together. Nikki, though? He fought the wave of possessiveness that coursed through him and repressed the urge to snatch his laptop from Gina. Nikki was his. His, and Beckett’s.


	2. A day of paperwork

A day of paperwork. Again. Well, that was just great, wasn’t it?

The day would drag out at a snail’s pace and if her team didn’t get called in for a fresh one she’d spend the whole day alone at her desk. Although maybe that was the better option. It felt more like the middle of the night than nine in the morning; the sky outside was pitch black and a storm threatened.

 _You can still return his call even if you don_ _’t have a body drop_ , a little voice reminded her, and she narrowed her eyes, glaring at the detective who had the misfortune to be in her line of vision.

She didn’t _want_ to call him, and she didn’t _want_ to pick up his calls either. Because if she heard his voice, even down the phone line, she would want to see him. And if she saw him, she’d have a hard time convincing herself that the hand holding they’d done last time they’d seen each other was as innocent as it was supposed to be. And if she thought too hard about the way the warmth had seeped from his skin into hers, as they’d sat by the pool last week, sipping their coffee and-

“What?” Esposito asked, his eyes meeting hers in a scowl, and she shrugged, dropping her gaze.

“Sorry.” She stood, pushing her chair out with more force than was necessary, and stalked into the break room. It wasn’t Espo’s fault that she was out of sorts, she reminded herself, slamming the portafilter into the machine and cursing as half of the coffee grounds spilled out of it. “Crap,” she swore, squeezing her eyes shut, just for a second.

“You okay, Beckett?” Ryan’s voice broke through her haze of anger, and she snapped her eyes open to see him lounging in the doorway.

“Espo send you?” she asked, wrinkling her nose apologetically, but the other detective shook his head.

“Heard you abusing the coffee machine from my desk,” he told her, moving into the room and relieving her of the offending apparatus. “Want a decaf?”

She shook her head, silently impressed with his brazen approach; she was in an awful mood, and she knew it. But between the case with Jerry Tyson and the conversation she’d had with Josh last night… She cleared her throat. No. It wasn’t Josh’s fault. He was an innocent party in this whole thing, and just because she’d fallen asleep beside him last night, wishing that she and Castle-

“I’m just gonna-” Ryan interrupted her thoughts as he deftly slotted the portafilter into place, setting her mug down ready to receive the hot liquid, “make you a half strength, ‘kay?”

“Thanks,” she said, working the kinks out of her neck and accepting the cup. “Hey- are you doing okay?”

Ryan shrugged, and she nodded sympathetically; after all, it wasn’t just Castle who had been affected. No, Tyson had taken Ryan’s badge and service weapon, and if anyone was going to be feeling badly about the whole situation, it would be him.

“He’ll call, “ Ryan said at last.

“I know. Because, yeah, he has- he called.” Ryan’s eyes narrowed, and she shook her head, back-pedaling. “But I didn’t get his message until really late, and I-” she broke off, taking a sip from the cup. Half-strength or not, she needed it and she replayed last night in her mind; Josh had slipped into her sublet after midnight, off shift just after she’d made her own way home, bone weary.

“I’m fine.” Kate had told him as they’d climbed into bed. She’d taken a deep breath, allowing him to fold her into his embrace. She’d tried to convince herself that it was good she wasn’t alone in her apartment. No, if she’d been alone, she’d have been sobbing in the bath again, unable to get the image of Castle in that hotel room out of her mind. She’d have been curled up in bed alone, under the covers, struggling to get warm when all she could imagine was the _what ifs_ had things had gone even more sideways.

She’d sighed audibly, and Josh had run a hand through her hair, and she’d twisted away, burrowing further into the covers and away from him. “Night,” she’d murmured, still far too wound up to sleep. She’d squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her body to relax, and she’d felt Josh’s hand brush against her shoulder before falling away.

All she’d been able to picture was the way her hand had looked in Castle’s as they’d sat by the pool. And all she’d been able to remember was how right it had felt.

“Okay.” Ryan’s quiet voice broke through her preoccupation and he nodded at her, shaking out the old coffee grounds and setting about making a cup of coffee for himself, reaching into the cupboard for a clean cup. But before he could position it properly, the lights went out, plunging the homicide floor into darkness.

***

There was a beat in which the floor was more or less pitch black. Before their eyes could adjust to the pale light fighting its way through the windows, the emergency lights flickered on, bathing the floor in a soft orange glow, interspersed with the green neon of the exit signs.

Beckett turned to Ryan, his expression echoing the confusion she knew to be painted across her own face, and their gazes met in the shadows.

“What the…” he started, and she shook her head, glancing out into the bull pen. The Captain was already striding out of his office, and the other detectives and officers on the floor were making their way over to him.

Kate shrugged, nudging Ryan, and he nodded, putting his empty cup down on the counter before following her out of the break room.

“LT, call down to the desk sergeant, find out what’s going on,” Montgomery directed, and LT picked up the handset of the closest phone.

“Weird, huh,” Esposito said, and Beckett nodded, sipping her coffee and watching LT expectantly. But the man put the phone down, confusion on his face.

“No connection,” he said, meeting Montgomery’s eyes, and the Captain frowned, reaching for the phone and dialing himself. The phone was at his ear for just a beat before he put it down, his eyebrows knitted in consternation as he received the same result.

“Huh,” Montgomery managed, pulling his cell from his pocket and dialing. Whoever he tried first evidently didn’t pick up, and he glared at the screen before stabbing at another number in his contacts list.

“Listen up, people,” he said, after hanging up. “That was the deputy chief. He’s going to try and work out what’s happening with the power and call us back. Beckett, can I get you to go downstairs, see what’s happening there? And Detective?” He chuckled. “Take the stairs.”

“Yes, Sir.” Beckett leaned back against her desk and took a last sip of her coffee; even at half-strength it was better than nothing.

She threw a longing look at the elevator - remembering with a wry smile the way Castle had found himself trapped there during the mummy case - and nodding at Esposito and Ryan, she stood, turning toward the staircase, her lips still curved up in a grin.

Castle would be so disappointed he’d missed out on a blackout in the precinct.

***

Vice was a flurry of movement when she reached the third floor. “Hey, Beckett,” one of the passing detectives called out when he spotted her in the low light, and she nodded at him, breaking her stride to reply.

“Still working, Austen?” she asked with a grin, and he shook his head.

“Pretty strange, huh,” he noted. “I just sent a couple of my officers downstairs to see if they can work out what’s going on. Thought it was the storm they were predicting, but it’s not even raining yet.”

“Mmm, I’m on my way too,” she confirmed, smiling and tilting her head toward the staircase. “See you.”

The second floor, too, was in a state of chaos, and Beckett hurried past. The last thing she wanted was to find herself face to face with Tom. _Forget about it_ , she instructed herself, and she shook her head, pushing thoughts of the robbery detective out of her mind. She had Josh now, and Castle-

She shook her head again, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. No. Castle was _not_ going to get in her head. She was going to figure out what was going on with the power and then she was going to call him and they would resume their normal working relationship; they would not, in any way, continue to cross the boundaries she’d so forcefully erected when he’d returned to the precinct in the Fall.

“What’s going on?” she asked the officer at the desk once she made her way across to the counter on the first floor.

“Not sure, yet, Detective Beckett,” Hartley told her, an apologetic smile on her face. “Lights and phones are all out, but that’s all we really know- that, and the fact everyone’s descending on us asking questions.” She pointed at the officers milling about with a grimace. “I’m a warden, and I have no idea what’s going on.”

Beckett grinned. She didn’t know Hartley well, but the young woman had been assigned to homicide on a handful of occasions and she recognized the tenacity of spirit that so mimicked the way she’d thrown herself into the job in her own younger days on the force.

“Hold up,” a man called from across the floor, and Beckett turned with Hartley to see Sergeant Wilson emerging from the doorway that she knew led to the basement. “We’ve checked it out. Gas leak in the furnace room. Emergency services are on their way to give us the all clear. In the meantime, let’s get everyone out of here in a calm and orderly fashion.”

“Sir?” Beckett called. “Has the gas been shut off?”

“Yeah, did it myself, downstairs,” he said, nodding back toward the basement.

Huh. There was something about this that didn’t sound right. A gas leak was one thing but she had to ask. “Sir? How did the power and phones go out?” 


	3. You had me at blackout

A gas leak had outted the power and phones  _how_ exactly?

“Your guess is as good as mine, Beckett,” Wilson called back and she refrained from rolling her eyes; he was a good man, if not the most forthcoming of people, but this wasn’t the first time she’d been stumped at exactly how he’d managed to rise past the rank of officer, let alone become a sergeant.

The crowd started flowing toward the front doors of the precinct as the fire wardens took point. Beckett hung back, beckoned by Hartley.

“Beckett, are you a floor warden?” Hartley asked, and she shook her head.

“No. But I’ll go back upstairs, get my guys from homicide to start evacuating.”

“Good, go. Thanks.” Hartley nodded, dismissing her and calling across the lobby to two of the other officers waiting to evacuate. “Phones are still out. Beckett’s heading to homicide. Butler, Craig, I need you to run upstairs, evacuate robbery and vice.”

***

Knowing Butler and Craig were right behind her, Beckett ignored both the second and third floors; they’d get told to evacuate soon enough, and she just wanted to get up to homicide, get her people out of there.

A grin crept across her face. It had been a long time since they’d had a fire drill, and who knew how long they’d be out of the building? She’d have time to duck across the street and get a decent coffee before the precinct was cleared and everyone could go back in.

“Beckett,” Montgomery called as she stepped back onto the homicide floor, and she raised a hand in greeting, squinting as she approached the group.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted the team. “There was a gas leak in the basement, we’re gonna evacuate.”

“A gas leak?” Montgomery frowned. “Well, that doesn’t explain why the power and phones are out.”

“Take it up with Wilson,” she advised him with a roll of her eyes.

“Alright, people,” the Captain announced. “Let’s get out of here in an orderly fashion.”

“Sir, I’m going to go upstairs, make sure the gym is empty,” Beckett said, and Montgomery nodded, waving people toward the stairs.

“Okay.” He glanced around, his eyes falling on Esposito. “Take him with you. And Ryan, I want you and LT to double check holding, and interrogation.”

They nodded, Beckett and Esposito taking the stairs two at a time. “I don’t smell gas,” Espo said, and she shrugged.

“I think it’s contained. They’re just being careful.”

“Well, it couldn’t have happened at a better time,” he said. “It felt like we weren’t gonna get anything but paperwork done today.”

“Glad our building’s lack of maintenance is working out for you, Espo,” she teased, and he grinned.

“C’mon,” he urged, opening the door to the gym and gesturing for her to go ahead. “Tell me you’re not gonna use the occasion to call writer boy and brag about how he missed being here for a blackout. You know he’s gonna be pissed that he missed it.”

“Yeah, he’s probably gonna demand we reenact the whole thing for him, just so he can see the building evacuated for his book-” she broke off mid-sentence, her phone ringing as if on cue, and she pursed her lips as Castle’s face flashed up on her screen. “He already knows,” she grinned, showing the caller ID to Espo before swiping the screen and bringing the phone to her ear. “Beckett.”

“Ah, Detective. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me,” he said, and she smiled in spite of herself.

“No, Castle. I was just in the middle of a few things when you called yesterday. Sorry.”

“No big deal,” he answered but she heard the uncertainty in his voice.

“No, it is,” she said. “I should have called you back. I just- I’m sorry.”

“It’s really okay, Kate,” he told her, his voice softening, and she smiled even knowing he couldn’t see her.

“And what about you?” she asked, leaning against the wall of the gym and waving Esposito across the empty room; he was a grown-up, he could check the bathrooms and locker rooms without her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m doing fine,” he told her and she was pleased to hear his voice sounded even and unstrained. “Gina’s been here, editing some of my stuff. I just sneaked away to take a break.”

“Well, if you’re hoping for a murder investigation we’re fresh out,” she told him, steadfastly ignoring the mention of his ex-wife and peering through the dark room. “We’re actually evacuating- the power’s gone out in the whole building, and Montgomery’s sent Espo and I up to the gym, to make sure the floor is empty.”

“Why, Detective,” he drew out. “You had me at blackout, and now you’re telling me you’re working out?”

“Not sure that’s what I said, Castle.” She bit back a smile. Score one for status quo, if he was going to find flirtation in the mere mention of the gym. It didn’t matter that Gina was there, and it didn’t matter that she had Josh. No, this was just innocent flirting.

She rolled her eyes at herself.

Like hell it was.

“Oh, I know what you meant,” he replied, and she huffed, mostly for his benefit rather than any deep-seated desire for him to stop talking.

“All clear,” Espo called, coming out of the women’s locker room, and she nodded, chuckling as he walked toward her.

“I’m gonna go, Castle, but I’ll call you when we get a real case, okay?”

“I could be useful in a blackout,” he murmured, and she blinked, surprised by the shiver that ran down her spine at his words.

“I’m sure you could,” she managed, and he chuckled.

“Why, Detective, I never-”

Espo held the door open for her, indicating for her to precede him back into the stairwell, and she nodded at him. “Not like that, Castle,” she said, forcing a chastising tone into her voice. She wasn’t going to picture herself and Castle finding their way to one another in the darkened precinct.

She _wasn_ _’t_.

“Uh-huh,” he returned, his voice low, and she had the sneaking suspicion that he might be picturing the exact same thing she was, and she closed her eyes, imagining the feeling of being pressed up against the wall of the gym in the dark…

No! No, she had to stop. She had Josh, and Castle had Gina, and if holding his hand after the triple killer case was affecting her like this she would have to book herself into therapy. Aversion therapy.

“Come on,” Espo muttered. “Talk to Castle when we get downstairs, okay?”

She nodded at the him. “See you, Castle,” she managed, pulling the cell from her ear and reaching to touch the screen to end-

She ducked instinctively, Esposito shielding her body with his own, as shots rang out from downstairs.


	4. What the hell was that

What the hell was  _that_ ?

Castle stared at his phone, the call now ended, his mouth hanging open. Had that been the sound of gunshots in the background? Surely not. But if it was- _Shit_. His first instinct was to call Beckett right back, but he stopped himself before he could do something stupid. If that was a gunshot, Beckett was in danger, and she needed to be as quiet as possible. The last thing she would need was a ringing phone.

He scrolled through his contact list, his finger hovering over Montgomery’s name for a split second before he realized that Roy was probably in the exact same position as Beckett, and with shaky fingers he managed to press nine-one-one into his phone.

“What’s your emergency?” the calm voice at the other end asked him.

“Gunshot- I heard- I think I heard- a gunshot. Gunshots,” he fumbled.

“Where are you, Sir?”

“I’m- no, not here,” he managed, clenching his teeth and taking a beat to collect himself. “I was on the phone with my… colleague, and we were just hanging up and I heard gunshots in the background. She’s a detective at the Twelfth Precinct, she was- she was upstairs in the gym and we were on the phone.”

“Okay, Sir, we’ll get someone over there to look into it. Is there anything else you can tell me? Did you hang up because of the gunshots?”

Castle ran a hand through his hair, wishing he had more information. “No. I heard them just as she said goodbye. They- um, they were evacuating because there was, I don’t know, a blackout? So she and Detective Esposito were up in the gym, checking in case anyone was up there. I don’t know if they found anyone.”

“Okay, good. Anything else?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” The fact that he’d been imagining Beckett in her work-out gear was anything but helpful. Likewise, the fact that he’d heard her voice and his first thought had been to put his shoes on and swing by the precinct with a coffee. The fact that he could barely close his eyes without imagining the way it had felt to entwine his fingers with hers…

“Sir?”

Focus. “No. That’s all,” he managed, pinching the bridge of his nose and ending the call. Shoes. Wallet. Phone. Right, his phone was in his hand. Keys. He needed to get to the Twelfth.

***

"Back in here," Espo hissed, reaching around Beckett and opening the door to the gym.

"Shit," she breathed as Esposito closed the door as softly as possible. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

"Did you see anything suspicious downstairs? Anyone you didn't recognize down in the lobby?"

Beckett shrugged, pointing toward the locker room. "Come on. It's too open here. And no- I mean, it was dark, it was chaotic, but-"

"But it seems like someone used the confusion to get in," Esposito finished.

Beckett nodded. "And they were armed."

"Well, that explains how a supposed gas leak threw the lights," Esposito muttered, and Kate nodded.

"Exactly. Because it didn't. Someone else did."

Esposito stared at her, his expression grim. "We've got to get out of here," he started.

"Castle!" Beckett exclaimed, and Espo turned to her, his finger on his lips to shush her.

"I don't think we need his crazy theories right now, Beckett," he grumbled, and she wrinkled her nose at him, secretly impressed by his ability to find levity in the situation. Almost the way Castle would, she thought, before frowning and pushing the thought away.

"No." She shook her head. "We were on the phone. What if he heard the shots before I hung up?"

"Well, you might want to start by switching your phone to silent before he calls you back," Esposito whispered, pulling his own cell from his pocket and flipping the settings so it wouldn't ring and give them away.

“Right.” Beckett set her phone to silent, and Esposito held up his own.

“I’m gonna call this in,” he whispered, and she nodded.

“Make the call,” she agreed. “Go into one of the stalls. Be as quiet as possible; I’ll keep watch.”

“You got your piece?” he asked her, and she shook her head.

“Nope. You?”

“Only my backup,” he said, bending down and unfastening it from his ankle holster, and she nodded, taking it when he held it out to her.

“Thanks. Now, make the call, see what you can figure out.”

He nodded, ducking into one of the stalls, and Beckett stifled a laugh; Esposito didn’t seem to have noticed, but they’d hidden themselves in the women’s locker room. He’d complain about that when they got out of here, she figured with a grin, but her smile faded at volume emanating from the stall.

“Shhh,” she hissed, and Esposito lowered his voice. He was still too loud though; the wood and brick of the small room meant that sound bounced around, and she found herself staring down at the ticking hand on her watch, still glancing at the door out of the corner of her eye.

“Right,” Espo was saying. “Two of us are up on the fifth floor, in the gym. At least two people on the fourth floor, maybe more. Thanks.”

He ended the call, and Beckett beckoned to him when he poked his head around the door. “Are we in the ladies’ room?” he whispered, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

“What did you learn?”

“It’s not good,” he said. “Interestingly, the first they knew of it being anything other than a gas leak and building evacuation was when a certain civilian called it in.”

“Castle,” she breathed. She had to call him as soon as she could. She had to let him know she was safe; the idea of him worrying about her was almost more than she could bear. Forget that ten minutes ago she’d been trying to convince herself that the pull between the two of them was nothing more than friendly camaraderie.

“Uh-huh.”

Espo’s grunt of acknowledgment brought her back to their current situation. Right, she told herself. Get out here first, then worry about your unresolved feelings for Castle.

“Anyway,” he continued. “The hostage guys are setting up outside, doing their thing, but they don’t know much else, yet. They don’t know who’s broken in, they don’t know why or what they want, and they don’t know how many of them there are. It’s what you said though- all the confusion downstairs in the blackout meant someone used the opportunity to get in without going through security. They want us to stay still until they can rescue us.” He threw a glance at the gun in her hand. “With one weapon between us, I gotta say, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Beckett nodded. He was right. He was absolutely right. There was absolutely no reason to put themselves in any more danger than they were already in. It made no sense to put themselves in the line of fire, and even less sense to go tiptoeing around the precinct in the dark, at a disadvantage. She sighed audibly, and Esposito narrowed his eyes at her in reprimand.

“I know that look, Beckett,” he warned, and she nodded.

“No, I know,” she murmured. “It’s safer here.”

He nodded, leaning against the wall, closing his eyes for a second and she watched him as he let his body relax, stretching out his fingers and breathing deeply before squaring his shoulders and opening his eyes. “If we can get back to the fourth floor we might be able to make our way into storage, find ourselves some bullet proof vests, and weapons, at least?”

She nodded. Yeah. Nothing about this was smart. But remaining a sitting duck sounded even stupider. If only she had Castle here beside her offering up wild ideas. Beckett cocked her head in the direction of the second staircase; the emergency exit that was never used. “Let’s go.”


	5. Barefoot

Castle paced back and forth on the sidewalk from what felt like a block away. Stranded behind the yellow police tape, his gaze scoured the crowd, looking for a familiar face.

Looking for Beckett.

The hostage negotiation team was in place, safe in their van. He didn’t need to be inside the control center to know that there were guys, snipers, ranging out across the nearby buildings.

His jaw clenched and he ran a shaky finger across the screen of his cell again. Maybe she’d called. Maybe he’d missed it. Maybe his phone was accidentally set to silent-

He shook his head, shoving the phone back in his pocket. It was on, it would ring - loudly - and vibrate, if and when Beckett got in touch with him.

‘What if she can’t call?’ his traitorous mind supplied, and he pushed back the urge to vomit. She would call. As soon as she was able. Which would be soon. Because she wasn’t lying in a pool of her own blood, dying in Esposito’s arms-

He slammed his open palm against the brick of the building next to him, scraping it hard and he shuddered as he looked at it, the skin grazed by the rough wall.

“Castle? Are you okay?” 

He looked up to see Officer Hastings standing over him, and he grimaced at her, wiping his hand on his jeans and blinking at the sight of the blood. “Yeah. Fine,” he lied, and she nodded.

“You weren’t in today?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“No. Paperwork. You know how it is. Beckett does it, and I… don’t.”

She offered him a sympathetic grin, tilting her head toward the tape. “Come on over,” she urged. “You made the call, right? Least we can do is keep you in the loop.”

He nodded, following dumbly behind her, his good hand still wrapped around his phone in a vice like grip, the injured one shoved in his pocket. What if she was bleeding out, and he was down here instead of up in the gym with her-

“So Beckett and Espo were in the gym when you spoke to them?” Hastings interrupted his train of thought and he nodded, clearing his throat. Right. Focus. He needed to help Beckett now, and if she was up there and he was down here, that meant putting his worst-case-scenario imagination away. A healthy dose of optimism was the only thing that had any chance of helping, so it was time to do what he did best; find an out of the box way to approach this.

“Yeah. Uh- you weren’t there? When Montgomery sent Beckett and Esposito up to the gym?”

She shook her head. “No. I was just coming back to the precinct when-” she indicated the swarm of people around them- “everyone was evacuating.”

“So what now?”

“Now… we wait. These guys-” she pointed at the van- “are trying to work out who’s in there. What they want.”

“Right.” He nodded, swallowing hard.

The shrill of his cell was a direct line to his heart and it pounded too hard in his chest. He pulled the phone from his pocket and- fuck.

Gina.

He exhaled, biting back the sting of tears. He’d left her at his place, dashing out of the loft without a word. His chest ached. He didn’t love her. He just… didn’t. Everything between them was mere lip service to a time they’d shared, years ago.

He saw the years stretching ahead of him in this limbo; passing the years with someone who was merely a friend. Sharing his days with someone who, as wonderful as she was - he really couldn’t bear Gina any ill will - was, to him, only ordinary.

And Gina deserved more too. He was kidding himself if he thought she was more than half-invested in their second go round. What was it about each of them that kept bringing them back to one another?

With a heavy heart he swiped his finger over decline. Later. Later, when Kate was out of the precinct, when he could breath again. He’d end things with Gina then. Right now he just had to work out how to get Beckett the hell out of the precinct.

***

“Castle! What are you doing here?” The familiar voice might not have been the one Castle was dying to hear, but he turned at the sound of the Captain’s question.

“Roy! You’re out! What’s going on in there?”

The captain tilted his head, his mouth set in a firm line. “Our people from homicide made it down to the second floor when a couple of guys came rushing past us on the stairs. We heard shots when we got down to the ground floor. I don’t know if they were heading for Vice or Homicide.”

“And who’s up there with- who’s up there?” Castle asked, and Montgomery shook his head.

“From our team? Beckett and Esposito are there, and so are Ryan and LT.”

Castle buried his head in his hand, his sweaty palm running across his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut. “What now?” he asked, his fingers muffling his voice, and the Captain patted his shoulder, his movement jerky and awkward.

“We wait.”

“Or we get them out.”

“If this is one of your hair-brained ideas, Castle-”

“No.” His voice was clear and he dropped his hands from his face, balling them in tight fists by his side. “I just want- I just want to get them out.”

“The hostage team has eyes on every entrance and exit.”

Castle nodded. He knew that. But standing out here doing nothing was not enough. He pulled his cell from his pocket, staring at the screen. He got that she couldn’t call. But he needed a text message. Anything to let him know she was okay.

***

“I’ve never even been here before,” Esposito whispered, and Kate pressed her lips together.

“Let’s hope we never have to come here again,” she murmured, sliding the door open and stepping into the emergency exit stairwell. Green emergency lighting gave off an intensified glow that was brighter than the gym had been. The fact it was enclosed should have been enough to make her feel more secure, but all it was doing was giving her the sense of being a sitting duck. “So let’s not sit,” she whispered to herself, nodding and signaling Esposito to follow her.

“How many do you reckon there are?”

She shrugged, not bothering to dignify that with an answer. What was she, a mind reader? A few more steps and she’d worked out her mistake; these heels were anything but subtle and the loud clack against the wooden floor was a disaster waiting to happen.

Anger flaring, she held up an index finger with a grimace, signaling Esposito to stop, before pulling the shoes off and sinking onto the ground in her stockinged feet. Why, exactly, were some assholes forcing her to be quiet in her own home?

Making a mental note to come retrieve one of her favorite pairs of shoes when they were out of harm’s way, she took the next few steps nimbly, slowing as they approached the fourth floor. She trained her eyes on the door as they approached it. If only there was a window; something to give them the slightest of ideas as to what they might be walking into. The gunshots, though, had come from the other side of the building, and hopefully from the third floor, rather than the fourth.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, taking a moment to block out the reality of their situation before opening them and stepping aside to let Esposito slide the door open, inch by inch.

“Clear,” she whispered as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the homicide floor, and moving into the room, she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Ryan sprawled on the floor, the unmistakable shine of blood on his shirt visible even in the low light. Behind her, Espo took another step, his leg bumping against hers until he, too, saw his partner.

The thought roared through Beckett’s mind as furiously as if someone had shouted it, and all caution was lost as she bolted toward Ryan. Ryan who shifted at the sound, his eyes widening as he took them in.

“Shhh,” their friend breathed, raising an index finger to his lips in attempt to quiet them, and he pointed at the floor. “Down,” he mouthed, and the unmistakable grunt of voices filled the room.

They dived, cramming themselves beneath the desk next to Ryan.


	6. See you soon

Beckett held her breath as the muffled voices faded again and footsteps thudded up the stairs.

“Thank God you’re not up there,” Ryan whispered, and Beckett rolled over, her hands flying to his press against his chest, seeking out whatever wound was there. “Ah-” he managed, groaning and twisting away from her. “Stop it.”

“You’re bleeding- aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “But I didn’t get shot in the chest. They fired, nicked my arm, left me here. Figured it was safest to play dead, for a minute.”

Beckett blinked, peering at him in the low light. Sure enough, the source of the bleeding was indeed his upper arm and she dipped her head in admiration; for a man who’d just been shot he was certainly handling it well.

“Where’s LT?” she asked, peeling her jacket off in readiness to wrap it around his arm. “How many are there?”

“I dunno,” Ryan said. “I went to interrogation and he went to holding. There was no one else on the floor, as far as I could tell, so I came back out here when they saw me. I think there are two or three? They fired, and took off back down the stairs.”

“And now they’re up in the gym?” Esposito spoke up. “What do they want?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Ryan managed, sitting up and letting Beckett wrap her jacket around his arm. “How are we gonna get out of here?”

“Our plan was to get down here, get into storage and get some vests,” Esposito said, taking care to keep his voice low.

“And I wanted to get my piece,” Beckett added, sliding across the floor to her own desk and unlocking the drawer. Her hand closed over her service weapon and she felt her limbs relax at the feel of the cool metal. She scooted back, handing Espo his spare piece and tucking her own into the back of her pants. “Can you move?”

Ryan nodded. “Let’s go.”

***

“Thank God,” Kate breathed as they made it into the storage room. Esposito was already springing into action, reaching for the vests, and she shut the door behind them, wincing at the snap of the lock as she clicked it into place.

It wouldn’t be long before the gunmen realized there was nothing on the fifth floor except the gym and locker room - although that still begged the question of what, exactly, they wanted - and they would make their way back downstairs.

“We need a plan,” Espo said, and she nodded, relieved that he was taking point. In ordinary circumstances she was their leader, but if he could take the pressure of her for just a second, she could take the minute she so desperately needed to regroup. Just a moment, that was all she wanted, and her hand closed around her cell in her pocket. Castle. She had to call him. Had to let him know she was safe. Had to hear his voice-

“Beckett? Let’s move.”

“Give me a sec,” she murmured, sliding her thumb across the screen and selecting _messages_. Punching in Castle’s name, she stared at the cursor for a second, momentarily stumped. What on earth was she meant to say? Letting her eyebrows knit together, she frowned a moment longer before typing out a quick message and shoving it back in her pocket.

“Right. Time to move.”

***

The chime of his cell had Castle sending up a quick prayer - please let it be from Kate - and he lessened his grip on it, heaving out a sigh of relief as he saw her name and message.

_We_ _’re safe. See you soon._

Well. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and he tapped Roy on the shoulder, holding the phone up so the Captain could see the screen.

“A little more info wouldn’t hurt,” Montgomery grumbled, but Castle watched as the man let out his own sigh of relief, his shoulders less hunched than they had been as some of his tension was released.

***

“Clear,” Beckett whispered, beckoning the others to follow her, and together they made their way toward holding. The plan was simple. Get LT, and get the hell out of the building. Of course, finding LT meant leaving the safety of the emergency staircase and crossing the entire fourth floor. Their path was further hindered by the fact they didn’t know if or when the gunmen had come back downstairs while they’d taken reprieve in the storage room.

Even in her stockinged feet they were being too loud, and she held her breath as they made their way across homicide, only breathing more easily once they were in holding.

“Beckett.” LT’s voice was low and her teeth clamped down on her lower lip when she saw him slumped against the wall, a pool of blood on the floor beside him. But he was conscious, and alive. That was all that mattered, and she knelt down next to him.

“What happened?” she whispered, and he shrugged, the movement dragging pain across his face.

“Don’t think it’s just a gas leak in the basement,” he surmised, and she smiled. If Castle was here he’d be making jokes too. She rocked back on her heels, reaching out to wrap a reassuring hand around LT’s wrist before standing.

“Can you walk?” she asked, knowing the answer before he opened his mouth; the gunshot wound to his calf was unmistakable.

A shake of his head gave her all the confirmation she needed. “Go. They won’t come back here,” he said.

“Do you know what they’re looking for?”

“Evidence room,” LT said. “I heard them talking. But I don’t know what they want there. And I don’t think they know which floor they need. I guess they’re working from top to bottom.”

“Main evidence is on third,” Esposito pointed out, and Beckett nodded, trying to work it through in her mind.

Leaving LT went against everything she believed in, but if he couldn’t walk, they didn’t have a choice. No, it would be safer for him to stay put until they could send back-up into the building. Now the question was whether they chanced making their way back across homicide to reach the emergency stairwell. It was arguably safer than the main staircase but the thought of crossing the fourth floor again and then being shut in the enclosed space was unappealing. Although if they took the most direct route downstairs, they would be taking their chances as they passed each floor.

“Main stairs,” she whispered, and Ryan and Esposito nodded.

“Hold tight, man,” she heard Espo tell LT, and she nodded at the officer, wishing he could walk with them before tightening her grip on her service weapon and taking slow and steady steps back into the bull pen, Ryan and Esposito right behind her.

***

Tiptoeing down the open staircase felt like Russian roulette, and Beckett tensed as they approached the third floor, squatting down and trying to get eyes on the workspace there. Silence reigned and in the dim lighting there was no visible movement. The upside to the darkness was that she and the boys wouldn’t be immediately visible to the gunmen either, but it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she wanted to bet on.

“Okay,” she breathed, beckoning Ryan and Esposito to keep following her.

“Yo.” Esposito’s voice pulled her attention from the staircase as they came level with the floor, and she followed where he was pointing with her gaze. The door to the evidence room was open and muffled sounds came from within.

“Well, if they’re contained,” she murmured into his ear, and he nodded, fixing Ryan with a sharp look.

“You’re in no shape for a confrontation,” he told his partner, and the fairer man raised a hand in protest, but Esposito just shook his head. “Go,” he said, pointing toward the ground floor. “Get back-up.”

Ryan dropped his gaze, lowering his head in a nod before raising his good hand in silent farewell and turning to make his way further down the stairs, and Beckett bit back the fear coursing through her veins. Espo stared after his partner, and she swallowed, imagining all the times she’d told Castle to stay in the car. She hated the idea of putting him in the line of fire but she wished he was here beside her right now, his presence steadying her racing heart and his warm smile setting her mind at ease.

The sooner you end this, the sooner you see him, she told herself, taking a step forward before stopping in her tracks again. Should she really be this concerned about Castle? Shouldn’t she be thinking of Josh, wondering when she would see her boyfriend again?

When she got out of here, there was only one set of arms she wanted to fold herself into, and she found she couldn’t even make herself feel guilty for the betrayal that was coursing through her mind. She shrugged, squaring her shoulders.

First, this.


	7. So close

Castle was alternating between staring at his phone and the entry of the precinct and he swallowed, Beckett’s text message burning itself onto his retina.

 _We_ _’re safe. See you soon_.

Stay safe, his mind chanted over and over. Safe. Stay safe.

His gaze flickered up again; no movement. Down, to the phone.

 _We_ _’re safe. See you soon_.

Stay safe.

Up to the precinct. Nothing. Down-

Movement. The door opened, and Castle jerked his gaze up to watch the scene unfold, his heart in his stomach as Ryan staggered out… alone. But with… was that Beckett’s jacket around his arm? So much blood, and he fought his imagination - a losing battle - picturing her bathed in her own blood, alone in the Twelfth.

The team rushed toward him, and Ryan pointed them toward the building, barking a few words of instructions before letting himself be led into a waiting ambulance.

 _We_ _’re safe. See you soon_.

Stay safe, his mind supplied automatically, and he put one foot in front of the other, making his way over to Ryan.

***

“NYPD, stay where you are and drop your weapons!”

Announcing themselves as NYPD in their own precinct burned and Beckett pushed the anger down, advancing slowly and watching as the three men in the evidence room turned around, surprise registering on their faces before they reacted a split second later, drawing their weapons.

“Put them down and no-one gets hurt!” Esposito’s voice was a confident declaration and she let his words steady her even as she concentrated on holding her own gun in place, her gaze unfaltering as she kept her eyes trained on the men in front of her.

The world slowed for a moment, and she measured time by the beats of her heart, racing in her chest as she willed them to give in before she had to fire.

One. Two. Three.

“No-one needs to get hurt,” Esposito continued, and she didn’t need to look at him to see the concentration on his face; she could hear it in his voice, and she kept counting.

Four. Five. Six.

The tallest of the men in the room shifted fractionally, and she felt, rather than saw, as she and Espo moved as one to center in on him, but he rocked back, releasing the tight grasp on his weapon and letting it fall to his side, setting it down on the table amongst the open evidence boxes before raising his hands above his head.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

And the other two did the same, apparently ready to give up, stepping toward her as she lowered her own weapon and reached for her cuffs, reciting the Miranda Rights on automatic pilot as she struggled to get her breathing under control. Beside her, Esposito mirrored her actions until only the third gunman was uncuffed, and she grimaced; back-up right about now would be great.

The sound of footfall behind them had her drawing her gun again in apprehension and she exhaled, shaky hands shoving her service weapon back into the back of her pants as she recognized the team; back-up was here.

They moved in, one man cuffing the third suspect and the rest of the team spreading out to check that the rest of the precinct was secure.

She closed her eyes at last, walking past them in a daze. Let the specialist team deal with this; she wanted out.

***

One foot in front of the other; Kate could hear the dull thud of Esposito’s footsteps echoing behind her but she didn’t turn to make eye contact as she made her way down the last flight of stairs.

The lobby was empty; a harsh juxtaposition to the throbbing mass of life it had been just - she turned her wrist to look at her watch - an hour ago. Her step heavy, she ran tired hands through her hair before pushing against the main door to the precinct, the wood cool to her touch as it opened for her, and the flicker of daylight fighting its way through the dark clouds forced her to blink.

And then arms were around her, tumbling her around in a circle and lifting her up before she could stop to think _we don_ _’t do this_ , and she recognized her name on Castle’s lips as he chanted in her ear.

“Kate,” he breathed again, letting her go and stepping back, his eyes widening as he took her in. “Where are your shoes?”

“Um.” Beckett blinked again, looking down at her feet and smiling wryly at her stockings. “Emergency stairwell. They were… loud.”

“Well, I never thought I’d see Kate Beckett without six inch heels,” he told her, sweeping her up again before she could protest, and carrying her across to a bench, ignoring the team waiting for her statement.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked as he released her, sitting her down so very gently, and he followed her gaze from her shirt - now imprinted with his blood - to his hand, the wound bleeding steadily.

“Oh. Uh-” he shook his head, a chuckle swelling in his throat. “Wall. It won. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” she murmured, taking his other hand in hers and pulling him toward her so he was sitting next to her. “You’re hurt.”

“Bloodied hand. And you’re barefoot. We’re a fine pair, huh?”

“A pair… yeah.” She averted her eyes. “You okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” he beamed, and she chuckled.

“Guess so.”

He stared at her, dropping his gaze before speaking. “I was- I was really worried, Beckett.”

“I know,” she told him, closing her eyes and breathing him in, realizing for the first time just how closely they were sitting. “I- the whole time… I just kept thinking…”

“What?”

“I was thinking-”

The shrill of Castle’s cell cut her off and she shuddered as he shrugged, pulling his phone from his pocket and grimacing at the screen.

“Take it,” she urged, biting her lip as soon as the words left her mouth. She’d _just_ gotten out. Did he really have to talk to Gina _right now_? She jerked back at the thought because _no_. She had no claim on him. None. Gina was his girlfriend, and he had every right to take her call. Every right.

She swallowed, standing up and realizing that she was still holding Castle’s hand. She moved to release his fingers, untangle herself from him, but his grip tightened, and he tugged her back toward him.

Tears welled in her eyes - _stupid_ , she told herself - and she sat back down. Okay. Fine. She could listen to this. Pretend it wasn’t cutting her to the bone, and she twisted her head away, forcing herself to look anywhere but at Castle as she bit back the surge of guilt that raged through her; not only did she have no claim on Castle, but she still had _Josh_.

At that thought, she did pull her hand from Castle’s, grimacing as she shifted on the bench. Josh. Her boyfriend didn’t even know she’d been locked down in the precinct, her life in danger in her own workplace; and she had no inclination to let him know.

The sorrow in Castle’s tone, rather than his words, drew her attention back to his conversation with Gina, and she turned back to him, gnawing on her thumbnail.

“No, no. What I'm saying is, it's over,” he murmured, holding the phone up to his ear for a beat longer before ending the call and turning to her, his eyes sad. And… more than sad. Relieved.

“Are…” Beckett’s question faded away as Esposito approached, looking at the two of them with hesitation before raising a hand in greeting.

“Yo. Montgomery wants you,” he said, his eyebrow raising at them in silent question, and she nodded, once again moving to untangle her hand from Castle’s. She stood, twisting around as she did, meeting Castle’s eyes and smiling as he rose with her.

“C’mon,” she said, her voice low, and he stared at her for a second, making no move to follow her.

“Beckett?” he asked, and she paused, painfully aware of the hard sidewalk beneath her stockinged feet.

“Yes?” she asked, taking another step toward him, until they were almost touching, the disparity in their heights truly apparent for the first time, and she bent her head back, looking up at him.

“I, uh-” For a writer he seemed to be having a hard time finding the words, and her lips curved upwards into a small grin.

“Mmm?” she asked, inching toward him, and his own face broke out in a shy smile as he leaned forward, close enough that his scent filled her nostrils as she inhaled, her eyes on his mouth. She could push herself up on her tiptoes, lean forward… it wouldn’t take much-

“Beckett,” he said again, reaching forward and brushing his uninjured hand over her hair. “I-”

“I know,” she managed, choking out a nervous laugh as the reality of the moment flooded her brain, and she took a hasty step back before she could do anything she would regret because _no_ , she could _not_ kiss Castle right here and now in the middle of the street with everyone watching.

And certainly not while she had a boyfriend.

And she spun on her heel, wincing as the pavement grazed against the soles of her feet as she hurtled toward the operation’s control center, and her waiting Captain.


	8. Let's get out of here

“Helluva day,” Kate said, scrubbing at her face with her hand before glancing at her wrist and taking note of the time again. Was it really only just _midday_? After that experience she could just go home and sleep for the rest of the day, but Montgomery was shaking his head at her, a soft expression on his face, and she straightened her posture. “Sir?”

“You okay?” he asked, and she nodded, distracted. She had to fix this. She had to call Josh, end things, and then… what? She closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips to her eyelids and exhaling angrily. First… first she needed to know that everyone was okay.

“How are LT and Ryan?”

“Both stable. LT’s leg’s a mess, but Ryan’s up and about. See for yourself.” He pointed to the man in question, gingerly embracing Esposito, and she let a smile settle on her lips. Her family was safe. She swallowed, turning back to her boss.

“Do we know what they wanted yet?” She forced the words from her lips, barely caring what the answer was as she tried to get a handle on herself.

Montgomery shrugged. “They’d been done for B and Es last month, but they were out on bail. They figured if they stole the evidence the charges would go away. Seems like they put a hell of a lot more effort into staging the blackout than they did paying attention to the practicalities of their escape.” He shook his head, not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice as he spat out, “ _idiots_.”

Beckett nodded, only half listening as she twisted around, her eyes sweeping the crowd. She bit her lip as her scan failed to find Castle in the throng. _Idiot_ , her brain echoed, and she sighed, before smiling at her Captain apologetically.

He was probably gone. He’d probably realized that things were never going to work. Hell, he could have gone home; maybe he was trying to make things right with Gina right now. He might have been swept up in the moment, acting rashly, and maybe he was already regretting it.

Tomorrow he would just show up at the precinct, and they’d act like nothing had happened, like they were just friends. Or partners, maybe, but nothing more. At the thought tears sprang to her eyes, and she pushed them back, biting down on the inside of her lip until she could taste blood. Could she go back into the precinct yet? She turned blindly from the Captain, not even sure where she was going, and ran smack into-

“Castle! I thought you-” she cast her eyes heavenward. Of _course_ he hadn’t just left. She scraped her hand across her eyes, swiping at the tears that were gathering on her lashes, before meeting his eyes, smiling in amusement at the beam that shone across his face.

“I was getting some things,” he explained, and her teeth clamped down on the inside of her cheeks as she followed his gaze to his hands. Her shoes in one hand, a coffee in the other.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her eyes narrowing as she took them from him, brushing the dirt off the sole of each foot before stepping into them one at a time. “How did you get these?” she asked when she was up at what she thought of as _Detective Beckett_ height again, and he smirked, ignoring her question.

“You’re _way_ shorter than me.”

“And now that we’ve established _that_ ,” she said, plucking the coffee from his hand and bringing it to her lips. “How-”

“We’re allowed back into the precinct,” he told her. “Power’s back on, too.”

“And you went in. And got my _shoes_?”

“Couldn’t have you walking around barefoot on the streets of New York. And I kinda got the feeling you wouldn’t let me carry you around for much longer.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes at him, leaning forward and letting herself nudge into his arm. He hadn’t left. He was still right here.

“You want to go in?” he asked. “Make a real statement? And then what do you say we get out of here?”

“Um.” She frowned. “I am working today, you know?”

“I have a feeling Montgomery will let you take some time, on account of you being a _hostage_ today,” he reminded her, his eyes clouding over at the reminder of the situation, and she reached out, entwining her fingers with his.

“I’m sorry you were worried about me today,” she murmured, and he shook his head.

“No. No, Kate. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

She dropped her gaze again, his words the echo of hers from the other night when she’d found him, safe and well after Tyson had left him in the motel room. Too many close calls, and too much subtext; she needed to find a way to break through the walls they’d erected around themselves.

***

He played with the bandage Beckett had wrapped around his hand while he stared at her through the workroom window. Her lips moved, and her head ducked up and down as she gave a verbal statement to the task force member who’d been assigned to take her version of events.

Close call. Their calls, lately, had all been too close, and he swallowed, leaning back in his chair. Was this how Beckett had felt when she’d burst into the hotel room Jerry Tyson had held him in? He dropped his gaze, staring for a second at his hands, surprised to see they were shaking.

Castle straightened in his chair, glancing around the room; Ryan - along with LT - had been taken to hospital, and Esposito sat at his own desk, staring absently at the screen, apparently lost in his own thoughts. The sight of the CSU guys was a stark reminder that this was, to some degree, still a crime scene, and his gaze continued around the room, falling on the entrance to the break room.

He could help fix this, bring them back a semblance of normality, and he stood as Beckett’s desk phone rang. He threw another glance into the workroom, but Beckett was hunched over now, explaining something intently and he shook his head, making a split second decision and reaching for the handset.

“Detective Beckett’s desk.”

“Castle?”

Castle flinched as he recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. “Hi, Josh.”

“What are you doing answering Kate’s phone?”

“Um…” Castle looked around frantically. He _really_ should have just let the phone ring. “Beckett’s giving her statement.”

“Her statement?” If Castle had to judge, he thought there was a hint of irritation in Josh’s voice.

“Uh- yeah. Because of the lockdown?”

“Lockdown? What?”

Shit. Castle buried his head in his hand. No wonder there were rules about answering Beckett’s phone; it was to avoid scenes like this. “There was a… situation. Here. At the precinct. It’s fine. She’s fine.”

“Right. Thanks, man.”

The click on the other end of the phone had him shaking his head, and he looked around guiltily, half expecting Esposito to jump down his throat, but the Hispanic detective was typing furiously at his computer.

Right. Well, if he was supposed to be tasking himself with fixing the situation he needed to get to it, before Beckett finished up and took off with her boyfriend. Casting a last regretful look through the glass at her - she looked exhausted, but her eyes flashed with the passion for justice that he knew so well - he strode into the break room with a confidence he didn’t feel, and set himself up at the coffee machine.

***

Making coffee for everyone on the fourth floor was giving him a sense of purpose, and he zipped in and out of the break room taking requests - Hastings wanted _how_ many sugars? - all the while keeping an eye trained on the workroom Kate was ensconced in; he knew exactly how she took her coffee, and it was going to be ready for her the moment she headed back to her own desk.

She stood at last, and he twisted getting visual confirmation that she was finally done - she shook their hands and turned to the door - before tapping the excess coffee from the portafilter and locking it into place.

The familiar chime of the elevator sounded and he looked up automatically, his heart sinking as Josh marched into the bull pen, colliding with Beckett as she made her way out of the work room, head down.

Of course. He shook his head; he’d done this. By answering the phone, he’d essentially sent Josh running into her arms, and whatever moment he and Beckett had shared outside - and now he even doubted that they’d had a moment - was long forgotten.

Unable to tear his gaze away, he watched as Beckett’s face revealed, first, surprise, at seeing her boyfriend and then- was that irritation? She swept her eyes over the bullpen, beckoning to Josh to follow her into one of the conference rooms, slamming the door shut and pulling the blinds closed.

He scrubbed his hand across his face with a sigh, and turned back to the coffee machine. He would make her a coffee, leave it on her desk, and get the hell out of there. Right about now the idea of holing up in his study with a bottle of scotch sounded more appealing than any other option he could come up with and if he could just get this milk steamer to co-operate - he scowled at the machine - he would be out of here.

Carrying Beckett’s coffee over to her desk in one of the NYPD mugs, he set it on her desk, raising his hand to Esposito in farewell and trudging over to the elevator. He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him, stepping aside to let Josh brush past him and slam his hand into the elevator call button.

“I’ll just, uh, take the stairs,” he mumbled, but he turned to look at the conference room instead of making for the exit. The blinds were still drawn and he hesitated. If Josh was rushing out of here, maybe Beckett still needed him. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to figure out his next move. Did he continue to the stairs or did he turn around, make his way to the conference room, and check on Kate?

Another beat of indecision was all it took for Beckett to step into the bull pen, her hand swiping across her face, her eyes red, and his feet made the decision for him, taking hesitant steps toward her.

“Kate?” he asked, and she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face in spite of the tears.

“Castle?” she asked. “Before… when you said let’s get out here? Can we do that now?”


	9. A whole cup of coffee

“We broke up,” Kate breathed, after he’d hailed them a cab and shuffled into the backseat after her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kicking himself for asking such a stupid question. She was curled up in the cab next to him, tears running down her face. At that realization he jerked back, running a panicked hand across his face. _Curled up next to him?_ More like curled up _into_ him. Well that was new, wasn’t it? He leaned back in and wrapped his arms around her, letting her rest her head on his chest as she sobbed.

“Kinda… relieved,” she admitted as the cab took a corner a little too fast, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I don’t even know what I was thinking, starting something with him.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as she continued.

“I think I just wanted something… easy.”

“It’s easy to go with the flow,” he agreed, his heart thudding in his chest. “Easier, maybe, than looking around and figuring out what we really want.”

She nodded, drawing away from him as the driver pulled up in front of her place, and he flinched at the loss, but fumbled in his pocket for his wallet, pushing a few bills toward the front seat and scrambling out after her without waiting for an invitation.

***

“It’s small,” she said, defensive now that he was inside her apartment and looking around with curiosity.

“It’s nice,” he reassured her and she shrugged, glancing around the studio with a sense of uncertainty. After last year’s upheaval; her apartment being bombed, moving in with Castle for a too-long, too-awkward - in fact, altogether too-short and too-comfortable - two weeks, this studio sublet was anything but her dream apartment. But it was in a secure building in a neighborhood she liked and it was affordable. And at least, even if the space was tiny and she craved her old place, she had managed to find a place with a decent bathroom, and a full sized tub.

So it wasn’t _nice_ but it was fine, temporarily. Much - and she grinned in spite of herself, unable to stop her lips curving up in an amused smile - like Josh had been. Doctor Motorcycle Boy. Yeah, that had had temporary written all over it since the moment she’d met him.

“You okay?” Castle asked again, and she shifted her shoulder in answer.

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “I’m just gonna get changed.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “Well, if you want to do that in your bedroom, I can just stay here. In the- where am I, Beckett? Is this the living room or the kitchen?”

“Nice.” She laughed in spite of herself. No, the room divider between her bed and the rest of the tiny space was not enough of a barrier for her to consider getting undressed behind it. Not with Castle there. “Just for that, you can make the coffee while I take a shower in the bathroom. Which is _actually_ a separate room.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she inhaled, relaxing at last. What was it about Castle that could drive her crazy while simultaneously making her feel like she was the only woman in the world?

***

“Hey.”

Castle startled as Beckett nudged into him, turning and smiling in appreciation as he took her in; her hair was swept up in a messy ponytail and the stains of mascara that had smudged the skin below her eyes had been scrubbed away, her eyes clear and green. Leggings, and bare feet, and an over-sized gray t-shirt, and hell yes, he approved of this sexy and relaxed version of Beckett before him.

“Did you make coffee?” she asked, and he handed her a mug wordlessly, grinning as she brought it to her lips, closing her eyes as she took a first, appreciative sip. ‘Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, unwilling to move. Not while she was still standing so close to him, and for the second time today he marveled at just how much shorter than him she was without her trademark heels.

Time seemed to slow as he leaned into her, breathing in her scent, all the while trying to hold himself back from burying himself in her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead, dotting light kisses all the way down her cheeks, meeting her mouth with his, pulling her lower lip between his own and sucking lightly…

“Castle!” she gasped and he stepped back.

Oh.

He’d kissed her; he’d actually done it. He’d pressed his lips against her temple in a moment of distraction.

Instead of stepping back in indignation, though, she took a step forward, closing the distance he’d just created, setting her coffee back on the counter before fisting his shirt and crashing her mouth against his.

Another moment of hesitation - the shock of _really_ and _at last_ competing for attention - before he let himself sink into the kiss, his eyes closing of their own accord as he drew her lower lip into his mouth, eliciting a low moan from her.

Oh, God.

That sound… he wanted to hear it again, and he opened his mouth, granting her tongue entrance and shifting so that he was pushing her against the counter. If he could ever get his limbs to co-operate again he would-

He moved his arms at last, wrapping his hands around her waist to gain leverage and lift her up onto the counter top. He slid one thigh between her legs, and his hands skimmed her waist still, nudging underneath the shirt until his fingers met her bare skin - so, so soft - and this time he was the one gasping into her mouth as she writhed against him, trying to get closer.

“Stop,” she murmured, her mouth against his, and he stilled.

“Stop?”

“No,” she managed, and he leaned his head back, trying to catch his breath.

“No?”

She shook her head, pushing him away and reaching for the coffee beside her, brandishing it at him to create a barrier. “Stop,” she whispered again, closing her eyes, and he took another step back, but reached out, daring to raise his hand and sweep a lock of her hair out of her face.

“Kate?”

“We, uh-” The faint trace of a smile played on her lips but she sighed. “You. We- I…”

Castle grinned in spite of himself; if nothing else - and he threw a quick prayer to the gods, because please let there be _something_ else - he’d made Kate Beckett speechless, and that was a victory in itself.

***

She stared down into her coffee cup, trying to find the words to explain just why pulling Castle to her and kissing him senseless - or letting him get her off on the counter top - or dragging him to the bed and fucking his brains out - was a bad idea.

“Do you know how many coffees I’ve tried to drink today?” she asked and he took another step back, his hand falling to his side and surprise flushing his features as he leaned against the back of her sofa.

“Um… no?”

“I didn’t have one at home this morning,” she started. “Because I kinda hoped we’d get a body drop, and I thought you’d bring me one.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I guess I take you for granted, Castle, and I’m sorry.”

“I-”

She held up her hand, indicating for him to just listen. “Ryan made me one before the whole thing started at the precinct. I had a couple of sips, but that was it. Then, after, you brought me one, and I drank some of it, but I got so caught up giving my statement that it went cold. And then, well, I saw the one that you’d left on my desk when we left the precinct, but it was too late to go back for that one.”

“Uh-huh?”

She rolled her eyes at herself, at the whole situation, drawing in a deep breath. “I just… I just think I should finish at least one cup of coffee, today. Before we make out, or, well, you know?”

He nodded, his hands gripping the back of the couch, and she hid a smile. Nice to know he was just as affected by this as she was.

“Because, well… you broke up with Gina and I broke up with Josh… _today_.”

“For each other,” he pointed out, his voice low and gentle, and she nodded, taking another sip of the coffee in an attempt to stave off the impulse to leap from the counter and tackle him onto the couch.

“For each other,” she agreed, closing her eyes and trying not to imagine what it would feel like when he ran his hands over her breasts. Trying not to imagine what it would be like to touch him, let him in. She swallowed, hard, averting her eyes.

“So where do we go from here?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“Take it slow?” she suggested. “Just… be friends, for a while. Friends who don’t date other people…”

“For how long?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said at last, and at that he did move, releasing his grasp on the couch and taking the three steps back to her as she finished the last of her drink.

“Let’s take it slow,” he murmured, taking the empty coffee cup from her hands and putting it back on the counter. He took her hand, tugging her off the counter so that she was standing. “No… not going to do anything,” he promised, folding her into an embrace, and she snuggled into him, clutching at his shirt and closing her eyes as his hands circled her back rhythmically.

Safe. For the first time today - for the first time this week - she felt safe.


	10. Taking it slow/So say we all

“So how do you propose we do this… thing?” Beckett asked.

Castle opened his mouth to reply and she saw the gleam in his eye, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Not… _that_ ,” she said, holding up her hand to stop him before he could answer inappropriately. “How do we take this slowly?”

“I think we start by getting something to eat. Because unless you’re holding out on me and you have a secret stash of cookies in your bathroom, I haven’t seen you eat all day. And it’s easier to make decisions on a full stomach.”

“Mmm.” He wasn’t wrong, and Beckett bit her lip, twisting to look at her fridge; hopefully he didn’t think he would find anything of nourishment in there. A carton of milk and a box of frozen berries was about the extent of it, if she remembered correctly.

“So I was thinking I would go home, get changed, and then I could… come back here? With some food?”

“What did you have in mind?”

He took a step back, his hand still wrapped around her waist, and she closed her eyes; good. This felt so good. And so right. “Chinese?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Sounds perfect.”

He took another step back, and she trailed behind him as he made his way to the door, still needing to be close to him. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, and she nodded, letting her body melt into his again, tilting her head up and standing on her tiptoes to press her lips against his.

“See you soon,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“Soon.”

He opened the door, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before disappearing down the stairs, and she stared after him. What a difference a day made. The smile fell from her face as she closed the door, clicking the lock into place and looking around. If Castle was coming back she needed to straighten up a little, and - more importantly - make sure any evidence of Josh was long gone. With that thought, she slid her iPod into its dock and turned the volume up before striding into the bathroom to make sure her ex-boyfriend’s toothbrush wasn’t on display.

A set of fresh sheets later, and Josh’s sleep shirt discarded in her laundry hamper, and she looked around, satisfied. She flopped down on the sofa, reaching absently for the closest book, exhaustion hitting her all at once. She would rest her eyes, just for a second, before Castle got back.

***

He raised his hand, suddenly nervous; it was one thing to kiss her in her kitchen, yet another to bring food, wine, and a DVD box-set. Perhaps this was a little presumptuous. The bottle of red and the DVDs had all the markings of a date - a stay-in on the sofa kind of date, granted - and was it too soon to be _dating_?

Castle swallowed before shaking his head and knocking on the door, three sharp raps that portrayed a boldness that he didn’t feel. And he waited. And waited. Had she gone out? He pulled his phone from his pocket; she would have left a message, if she’d gone somewhere, right? But the door swung open, and sleepy hazel eyes peered at him.

“I fell asleep,” she admitted, and he nodded, taking her in. Okay, if she’d been cute before, in her leggings and t-shirt, she was downright _adorable_ now that her hair was sleep-mussed and her eyes half-closed.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said, stepping over the threshold.

“No, it’s okay.” She yawned, covering her mouth and offering an apologetic giggle. Okay, so a giggling, yawning Kate Beckett might just be the most charming thing ever.

“So.”

“So.” She ducked her head shyly. “I’ll get some plates and glasses if you want to set up the DVD player- what did you bring?”

He shrugged, suddenly second-guessing his choice. “Sci-Fi…” Her eyes lit up and he grinned. “Battlestar.”

“Okay.” She grinned, her teeth clamping down on her lower lip and he cocked his head to the side.

“Closet Sci-Fi geek, Beckett?”

She shrugged, turning from him and reaching into the open shelving to retrieve plates and glasses. “The things you don’t know about me could fill a book,” she teased, and he inhaled sharply.

“Of that I have no doubt,” he said, his voice low, and he could have sworn she shivered. She turned back to him though, with a soft smile on her lips, before taking a bottle opener from a drawer and removing the cork.

“Wine?” she asked, and the hesitant look was in her eyes once more.

“If… only if you want,” he said, at a loss, and she shook her head, pursing her lips.

“I do-” she rolled her eyes. “After today, yeah, I _really_ want a glass of wine, but we said we’d take things slow, and I don’t want to get so relaxed that we just… you know.”

“Just one then,” he suggested, and she nodded, pouring them each a generous glass.

“Um… Beckett?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your TV?”

“Oh!” Her hand flew to her mouth and she chuckled. “I forgot. I don’t have one.”

“That’s going to make watching movies kind of hard, isn’t it?”

She shook her head, carrying the wine to the coffee table and extracting her laptop from beneath a couple of books on the desk. She handed it to him with a flourish. “There’s a guest account,” she clarified. “Knock yourself out.”

***

Kate leaned back, barely able to keep her eyes open. Before them, the Chinese take-out containers were strewn across the coffee table, and the laptop was balanced on the foot of her bed behind it. So far Castle had been a perfect gentleman, his arm around her shoulder, his hand barely straying from its chaste circles at the top of her arm.

Then again, she didn’t think she was up for much else; she didn’t know just when she’d last been quite so exhausted. It turned out that curling up on her sofa with a bottle of red, Chinese food and Castle was the perfect antidote to a brutal day.

“Hey,” he whispered as the credits rolled on the second episode. “Are you falling asleep?”

She halted the protest rising in her throat, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s get you into bed,” he murmured, rising and closing the lid of the laptop before placing it back on her desk.

Beckett nodded, letting him guide her over to her bed, and climbing in under the covers.

“I’m just going to straighten up here,” he whispered, and she heard, rather than saw, as he gathered the take-out containers, shoving the leftovers in the fridge.

The overhead light in the kitchen was flipped off, and Kate opened her eyes to see Castle hovering by her bed, her bedside lamp switched on. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her mouth before straightening.

“See you tomorrow,” he whispered, and even in her haze of sleep, she forced herself to answer.

“Stay,” she whispered, and he hesitated.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Stay. Here.” She lifted the covers, inviting him in, and he nodded, unbuttoning his jeans and laying them on the end of the sofa.

“So say we all,” he murmured, and she grinned. Sci-Fi DVD nights with Richard Castle? She could get very used to this. He took a few short steps back to the bed and climbed in beside her, wrapping his arms around her, his lips in her hair. “Sleep, Beckett.”

***

“Mmm.” Beckett stretched out; sunlight was streaming in the window, and it wouldn’t be long before her alarm sounded. But the longer she could stay harbored in her partner’s arms the bet- her _partner_? His _arms_?

With a gasp she rolled over, as yesterday came flooding back. Oh. _Oh_. She inhaled, opening her eyes and letting herself breath out slowly. Wow.

“Morning, Beckett.” Castle’s voice was muffled by the blankets and she reached out, running her hand softly along his arm.

“Morning,” she whispered back, and he squirmed, pulling her to him.

“Hey…” He beamed at her; she hadn’t picked him as a morning person, but he looked wide-awake right now. And - she shifted slightly, scrambling backwards - he _felt_ wide awake right now.

He chuckled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her nose before peppering kisses across her neck and jaw and she sank into him, wrapping her arms around him and closing her eyes as his mouth met hers. The intensity of their impromptu make-out session in the kitchen yesterday was gone, leaving in its wake an urgency that was gentle, and Kate closed her eyes as Castle’s tongue sought entry, a slow and thorough seduction that was threatening to undo her before he’d laid a hand upon her.

She twisted, sliding her hand beneath his shirt and letting him shift so that his thigh was pressed between her legs, unable to stop the moan of pleasure that left her mouth when his hands made a sure path from her arms to her waist; his touch against her bare skin intoxicating.

“Kate,” he breathed, his fingers circling her skin, making their way up to her breasts, his thumb skimming across her nipple, eliciting another gasp. Slow be damned; Kate hauled herself up so that she was straddling him, her hair falling around her face as she bent down to reclaim his mouth. “Kate?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Mmm?”

“Slow- do you wanna take things slow?” he asked, and she bit her lip, trying to see her way through the throb of arousal that was coursing through her veins.

“I- uh-”

He chuckled, pushing her back so his hands were encircling her waist again, and gazing up at her.

“You don’t-”

“No, no, I do.” He smiled up at her, and she bit her lip, rolling off him so she was laying beside him again so they could have this conversation. “But I want to do this properly. I want to take you out and impress you.”

“You think you have to impress me?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Maybe. I mean, a night in watching Battlestar has a certain appeal, but I want to go out with you, take you somewhere special.”

She nodded. “For what it’s worth, last night, watching Battlestar, meant a lot to me. And if you want to take me out-” her hand flew to her mouth, panic flaring as her stomach dropped. “You can’t! We can’t _tell_ people about this. Not if you want to keep working at the Twelfth!”

He blinked, his eyebrows knitting together. “Okay. Slow, remember. One step at a time. Let’s not worry about that until we really need to worry about it, okay?”

Kate nodded. “One thing at a time,” she agreed, her eyes darting to his mouth. “And right now-”

From the nightstand, her phone shrilled, sounding its alarm, and she bit her lip, raising her eyebrows and reaching over him to shut the noise off. “Right now?” Castle asked.

“Right now… we have to go to work.”

He nodded, kissing her again, and she smiled as his mouth collided with hers. “I’m going to go home, get changed, and check in with Alexis,” he told her. “And I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

“With my coffee?”

“With your coffee.”


End file.
